


New Toys

by darter_blue



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, College Student Peter Parker, First Kiss, Fluff, Identity Porn, Kitchen Sex, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-07-16 00:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16074338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Peter is nervous about how much he's starting to like Wade's flirting.And then very confused when Wade seems uninterested in taking it further.If only the creepy bad guys in masks would not keep popping up all over the place, Professor Warren would not drool all over his bestie Gwen, and Deadpool would not choose to only be interested the minute he meets Peter out of costume... no clue who he's even flirting with this time...





	1. Clones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalee60](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/gifts).



> For my best friend. And partner in crime.

 

Spiderman.

Superhero, vigilante, menace.

Peter, to his friends - who were, to be fair, totally unaware he went by any other name. Underoos, to his billionaire, philanthropic, playboy mentor - with affection, Mr Stark often reminded him. Sweetie (or Kiddo), to his favourite person in the world, Aunt May.

But it’s Spiderman to whomever happens to spot him in his blue and red armoured spandex, swinging from his webs between the buildings above them. Totally aware that he was capable of kicking serious ass to keep his neighborhood safe. Some of them had witnessed it first hand.

 

Lately, though, Peter felt as though his patrols had gotten too quiet.

It wasn’t, you understand, that Spiderman was greeted by any fewer hoodlums, dealers or violently aggressive New Yorkers than on a normal nightly vigil, but it was literally the _noise level_ of his evenings that seemed to be on the slide. The wise-cracking and inappropriately flirtatious harassment usually barreled at him from his - part-time… maybe _semi-casual_ \- patrol partner, Deadpool, was conspicuously missing from his shifts.

Peter didn’t mind the big guy’s imaginative and enthusiastic flirting. Well, the first meeting, being labelled a ‘bubble butted boy wonder’ had been weird. The second meeting, with the whole, ‘Twinkalicious’ comment, had been… also weird, but maybe less surprisingly so. Time had morphed it from disconcerting to tolerable until it became routine. And now, a year after meeting the “merc with the mouth”, Peter felt almost disappointed if the flirting wasn't overwhelming and, okay, yes, a little obscene. Which was kinda when he realised that perhaps he had a problem. A 6 foot 2, 200 pound, gun toting, katana wielding, red-and-black-leather-clad mercenary-shaped problem.

And it wasn’t like Deadpool couldn’t be cool. Like, yes he sometimes killed people, quite horrifically, and with varied levels of gleeful excitement - but it was generally well deserved. And yeah, Peter was sort of against the whole ‘murder for money’ gig, but DP had never done anything to hurt Peter, had in fact saved his life a whole bunch, so it was hard for him not to seperate popular opinion from his own feelings for the man.

Realising he actively looked forward to DP crashing his patrols, missing the flirting when it didn't happen - well, that seemed like a sign that maybe those feelings were leaning towards the whole - _romantic -_ persuasion.   

So when Peter donned his costume, greeted Karen warmly as she booted up in his mask, and set off to do good in the glorious city of New York, he was vaguely - very, vehemently, _voraciously_ \- hoping he would run into one, Wade W Wilson (Deadpool, that is, to the uninitiated).

That hope intensified when the assholes in masks he’d dropped in on, mid robbery, decided to rain bullets at him rather than exchange in his witty banter.

The gravelled but cheerful ‘Spidey!’ thrown at him from the shattered entrance was a welcome relief.

‘DP.’ Peter inclined his head at Wade as he dodged the gunfire with grace, definitely _not_ embellished for Deadpool’s sake.

‘These boys bothering you?’ Deadpool’s tone was light, but held a hint of dangerous potential.

‘Nobody makes time for conversation anymore,’ Peter quipped, managing to stay just ahead of the bullets as they sprayed through the jewellery store and littered the floor.

‘Who wouldn't make time for you, baby-boy?’ Deadpool purred and Karen noticed a spike in Peter's heart rate she felt necessary to mention. He silently thanked Mr Stark that her voice was internalised. Though it distracted him enough that he nearly missed Wade aim a knife with (attractively perfect) accuracy at the tallest bad guy's chest. He managed to snatch the knife, centimeters from its target, and plug the barrel of tall-man’s gun with successive shots of his webs.

‘You are no fun,’ Peter could hear Wade’s pout in the words.

‘I can be fun,’ he assured Wade, ripping the gun from one bad guy with too tight pants and bending it into uselessness with his gloved hands.

The ridiculously expressive eyes of Wade’s mask widened, though Peter couldn’t tell if it was the show of strength or the subsequent, fluid, slide across the floor that rounded on tight-pants (so he could clock him in the temple), that had Wade flustered. Deadpool turned away and busied himself beating Mr Big and Tall to the ground with more force than Peter was comfortable with, as Peter swung around to the last guy - who by this time was struggling just to get away - and bundled him up in a sticky, webbed heap for the police to find.

‘Pool,’ Peter said, laying a gentle palm to the merc’s very large, very warm bicep, ‘let’s get out of here, okay?’

And Deadpool pulled back from the violence to heed Spidey’s advice and disappear from the scene.

 

By the time Peter finally made it home, he’d decided maybe the whole - heart skips when Wade calls him ‘baby-boy’ - thing, was worth investigating.

 

~~~

 

Peter’s molecular genetics lab had him grumbling. Professor Warren was not Peter’s favourite Lab coordinator. Not even top ten. Gwen and Peter had been lab partners for months and Prof Warren spent way too many lab hours staring at her ass - sometimes if her bra strap was showing, he would drool just a little - and being all creepy. Also, he’d just given Peter his first B. Which… Sacrilege. Honestly. Simply because Peter disputed the guy’s obsession with genetic modification - with some pretty significant evidentiary arguments mind you. So yeah, Peter was not a fan.

Gwen spent the entire lab giving Peter shtick about being all mooney instead of paying attention to Professor sex-offender. Which somehow led to his confessing his recent confusion over an exasperating guy he maybe had a crush on.

‘What's confusing about it?’ Gwen seeked to clarify.

‘He’s inappropriate and annoying. Why do I like him?’ (Peter most certainly did _not_ whine).

‘He’s hot?’ Gwen flipped her glorious blonde hair over a shoulder and didn't bother to raise an eyebrow.

‘No.’ Peter mused, ‘I mean, he is,’ he clarified, cheeks heating at the blush, ‘but that's not why.’

‘You like the attention?’ Gwen teased, laughing at Peter’s rosy cheeks.

‘Maybe…’ honestly he wasn't sure. ‘That doesn't seem like _it_ though.’

‘You guys just click?’ She guessed with a shrug.

Peter thought on all the nights they'd spent together, pleasantly sat on some rooftop or another, eating churros and laughing about nothing.

‘Huh.’ Well. 

 

In the end, without the insight of any particulars, Gwen told him to ‘go for it’ and Peter decided that maybe they didn't call her a genius for nothing.

 

~~~

 

The next time he ran into DP, Peter had worked himself into a big old state. _Nervous_ just wasn't enough to cover it. Deadpool was looking dangerous and unfairly attractive in tight red and black leather. Masculine and muscular in a way that Peter probably never would be - at 5’10” and 150 pounds (he’s worked his way up to that - thank you very much - with the excessive eating to keep up with his metabolism and the constant lifting of waywardly travelling motor vehicles), and in a way that Peter couldn't seem to look away from.

 

He barely avoided being electrocuted by a creepy group of men in black, loitering around the chief of police’s (who also happens to be Gwen’s dad) apartment building, as the boys swung past for the nightly check in.

Peter was a little shocked by their presence (he definitely was _not_ preoccupied by the definition of Wade’s washboard abs through his suit) and barely managed to shoot a new web to the opposite building to keep from nose-diving into the pavement.

‘Hey!’ Wade shouted, livid, ‘don’t you _dare_ threaten that ass, that ass is a national treasure!’ And slashed at the masked monsters, throwing one of his katanas with vicious accuracy.

‘What is it with all the masks lately?’ Peter asked Wade, dropping back into the action, resigned to the horror of a man grabbing his severed arm from the ground, clutching it tightly and cowering behind his friends. Noticing instead how super weird it was that they all seemed to be the same height and build. ‘Are these some freaky, triplet-villains?’

Peter didn’t properly appreciate how crazy sophisticated the weaponry the guys were carrying was until one of them shot a burst of heat that sent Wade flying. His Spidey-sense was all over the place as he webbed the gun from one triplet, only to get electrocuted by another while he hyperventilated over Wade lying bleeding all over the ground.

‘Deadpool!’ Peter spluttered around the taste of burnt tongue.

‘Mm fine,’ was the croaky reply. ‘Peachy.’

‘Your chest is caved in!’

‘Meh, just a flesh wound’

It only took Peter a moment to get back on his feet but it was enough time for the triplets to run off into the night and leave him standing with a regenerating superhero at his feet. Smoking pieces of Deadpool’s charred flesh lay scattered across the uneven pavement.

‘I think it’s managed to sever my spine…’ Deadpool sighed, giving up on trying to move and letting his head thump back to the concrete.

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and bent to lift Wade into a fireman’s hold. He supposed it was only right to cart Wade home. He grabbed the captured gun in the other hand, Mr Stark would need to be notified about all of it.

‘Spidey, you’re my hero.’

‘Shut up, Wade.’ Peter really didn't want to hear deadpool make stupid jokes while his intestines were pressed into his shoulder.

‘You’re everything I wish I could be.’

‘Seriously, Wade.’

‘I could fly higher than an eagle,’ DP crooned, stroking Peter’s cheek (yep, butt cheek).

‘I will drop you!’ He wasn’t even kidding.

‘You’re the wind beneath my wings, baby-boy!.’

Peter dropped him.

‘Hey!’

‘What did you think would happen!’ Though, at least the crooning indicated how much DP must have finally knitted himself back together.

‘Tough but fair,’ he said reasonably. ‘It’s what I love about you.’

Peter shook his head, but couldn't fight the smile.

He picked Deadpool back up and swung them to the fourth floor fire exit of a dilapidated building. They sprawled into the apartment with Dp’s blood all over Peter and all over Deadpool, his mask singed and hanging at a strange angle.

‘Can I just, take this off?’ Peter asked.

‘Not a good idea, Webs.’

Peter listened but traced a finger across Wade’s exposed cheek. It was scarred, raised and puckered, but the cutting bone structure was fascinating and beautiful. Peter relished the rare moment of vulnerability. And the consequential privilege he felt at being allowed to witness it.

‘Like, so…’

‘Like, so what, Webs?’

‘I’m just, wondering...’

‘If my whole body is just one giant hairless, shrivelled up meat popsicle?’

‘Wade-’

‘It is.’

‘Wade.’

‘Yes baby-boy?’

‘I just want to ask if you're free?’

‘I'm very expensive’

Peter could only respond with a violent eye roll.

‘You need something from me honey-buns?’ Peter could see the smirk of scarred lips beneath the tattered mask.

‘I mean, free for, like... Dinner.’

There was a heavy, extended pause. ‘No can do, kid. I have other plans.’

Peter’s suspicion was palpable. It didn’t require verbalisation.

‘Washing my hair.’

Again, with the silent treatment.

‘My not hair. My Lack of. My wrinkled nut sack of a head... Is what I'm washing.’

‘Yeah I'm gonna…’ Peter fought the urge to hang his head. Instead he leapt onto the railing, mumbled, ‘bye, Wade,’ and swung away.

 

They ran into each other at another creepy burglary, a week later,  just two of the _maybe-twins_ this time, who took off as soon as they saw the vigilantes coming at them. Stark’s research into the pulse ray had turned up interesting and ‘amatuer’ results, but didn’t give Peter anything real to work with.

‘Leave the big stuff to me, Underoos, and just keep on top of your grades.’

Peter wasn’t overly impressed with his boss after that, and decided to do what he always did; whatever he felt was necessary.

 

It was touch and go if Peter was prepared to put his dignity on the line again for Deadpool though. The warm hand on his shoulder helped tip the scales - nothing to do with that unique scent combination of gunpowder and maple syrup, or the fleeting fantasy of Wade’s thick thighs wrapped around Peter’s cheeks (whichever cheeks, actually, Peter’s fantasies were not exclusionary).

But, before Peter could even finish asking if Wade was up for Mexican, he was dismissed.

‘Not tonight, kiddo.’ Jovially crushing Peter’s dreams.

‘You've got plans?’ Peter hated how small he sounded.

‘Hot date. Some other time maybe.’ Deadpool patted him on the shoulder again and skipped off in the opposite direction.

Peter was left a bit deflated. And a lot confused.

 

~~~

 

WADE

Ten days later and still no sign of Spidey. Wade felt a little bad. Or badly? No, bad. Right. Guilty. Whatever. It sucked to see that look on Spidey’s face (you know, what he imagined Spidey had looked like, under the non-expressive mask) but Webs would get over it. Deadpool was kind of a jerk, everyone knew that. So he’d shot down Spidey’s attempts at pity dates. Wade's first rule of self preservation: treat them mean, keep himself peachy keen.

Mmm peaches.

Mmm. Dat ass.

No. Off limits. Spidey equals best bro, not ho.

 

Anyway,

 

Creepy, super freak, ninjas.

 

It was like, suddenly Wade was seeing them everywhere. And yes, he could regenerate a missing rib cage, but Spidey could not. So he’d been following them, trying to get a good glimpse of them, maybe unalive them if he could, and get them off Spidey’s radar.

 

They were proving surprisingly hard to track down.

But, yay, finally, Deadpool had done his Deadpooling well, and under cover of the bright afternoon and in full Deadpool regalia, followed two of the creepies to a big sciencey building, some kind of University - likely full of nerds - and watched with growing concern as the glass in the windows started shaking. Ooh, maybe they had a T-Rex?

 

Kids were running out, no glasses or pocket protectors (disappointing) but lots of tweed, ironic 80s pop t shirts and man buns (what was the world coming to?).

 

One kid (was he a kid? Or was Wade meant to call them Millennials now? He for sure didn’t look like a scientist) in ripped skinny Jeans and red converse (and an _empire strikes back_ t-shirt - ooh, potential) was chasing the rest of the students out and then making a run for it. Back… into the building?

‘Kid! Hey, kid!’ what the fuck was he thinking? ‘Get out of there!’

The kid looked back at him and… rolled his eyes? Rude!

‘Did you eat too many paint chips as a toddler or what?’ he called as he made it inside, where the brat just turned tail to run back at Wade. Which seemed too easy…

Until Wade caught sight of a gang of baddies chasing him Wade's way.

‘Run!’ he called to Wade, pretty rich considering. Wade stood his ground, hands on hips. No little punk ninjas were going to scare Wade into a retreat. And their dumb looking electro guns weren't even that hurty. Well. They were a little bit hurty. Hurty a lot actually.

 

‘Get down you idiot,’ the brat called, flying at Wade and tackling him to the ground just as a legit lightning bolt shot at his recently occupied space.

‘Wow,’ Wade winced at his bruised ribs, ‘what are you, like 100 pounds? How'd you do that?’

‘What are you even doing here?’ the little brat asked, like he had any right to question whether Wade belonged in his smarmy smart school.

‘I do what I want!’ Wade tried to push back, but found himself pressed flat into the floor.

The little brat was _a lot_ stronger than he looked.

Wade was not, however, opposed to being held down. Especially by this little brat. The guy was fi-ine! Except maybe, with the whole, people were trying to maybe blow up the building and shoot lightning bolts at Wade thing, they should actually get up and make for the doors.

‘Okay, cutie, can we bounce or what?’ Wade looked up into warm, chocolate brown eyes framed by black rimmed glasses and a bed head to kill for and added, ‘“or what” can definitely mean you pound me into the floor some more, cause I am one hundred percent up for that.’

Nerdy, millennial, skinny-jeaned, beauty gave Wade nothing but a cold shoulder reply. Boo.

Okay and then the dumb dumbs were pulling their masks off and stalking down the hall. Three of them. One with a nice looking Glock. One with a mean, giant pulse ray - or whatever.

‘Cutie, honestly, we have to get out of here.’ Only, cutie decided to get up and stand his ground against the creepsters.

Shit fuck shit.

 

‘Professor Warren?’ Cutie said, all surprised and gorgeous.

‘Parker,’ smirked the middle guy with the glock. ‘Always a pain in my proverbial.’

‘Are you… are they… Clones?’

And, what the fuck? Wade ping ponged his mercenary vision between the three guys, the one on the left with an empty, pinned up sleeve. They did look absolutely identical. Except for the unfortunate armlessness of that one guy.

The three of them chuckled really eerily, Mr-in-the-middle flashing a toothy grin at Wade’s new friend. Wade took that as his cue to get off the floor and move just enough between the kid and the clones to shield any bullets from the glock. He was a _little_ bit worried about the pulse ray though.

 

‘Oh Parker, you fool, that explosion was supposed to chase everybody out,’ the right clone scoffed, all B-grade bad guy like, ‘I guess now it looks like I need to put you down.’

Which Wade took offense to, not just because he’d been totally ignored by clone guy, but also because he hadn’t had enough time to work his Deadpool magic on the gorgeous nerd yet. He needed to at least get a smile out of him. The guy was too beautiful to be so frowny.  
    ‘Not cool, man. Cutie’s like this don’t get put down by assholes like you!’

‘Deadpool…’ the guy, - Parker, was it? - said, glaring at Wade through his periphery.

‘Eh? you know me, huh?’ which was something of a bummer - his reputation could be a plus or a minus (okay, so _usually_ it was a minus).

Warren and Warren and Warren - oops, the one with the missing arm looked super pissed to see Wade agan - were glaring now at the interruption. ‘Ah, yeah, soz about your arm, dude, but nobody touches my Spidey,’ he apologised with a shrug. The dude had really brought it on himself. Nobody hurt spidey and got away with it on Wade’s watch. Even if Spidey wasn’t a big fan of the whole, _violent retribution_ thing.

Cutie-Parker looked at him with some confusion, almost like he was... Jealous?

 

Interesting.

 

Wade came back to himself just in time to hear Parker arguing heatedly.

‘But Gwen could be in there, Warren you Butthole!’ Oh dear, Wade hoped Gwen was either, not a girlfriend, or into threesomes. - which got him a look and oops! - he’d said that out loud.

‘Gwen is exactly where I want her to be.’

‘What does that mean? Where is she?’ Parker’s pitch was getting higher and higher and Wade was panicked in solidarity.

The professor said something like ‘Mwa ha ha, now I kill you Parker.’ (Wade wasn’t really listening) and then suddenly everything got weird.

 

Like, _super_ weird.

 

Wade watched Parker grit his cute little teeth and then flick his wrist out to shoot a web, (a WEB!) at middle Prof, with the glock, hitting him right in the face (score).

A web!

Wade’s eyes were bugging and his feet stuck steadfastly to the floor. He kept right on watching as Parker flew, (or ran, or jumped - a bit, er, spider like - but with ridiculous speed) at the one armed Prof to kick him right in the Jaw - Pow!

Pulse ray dude was screaming and aiming his big (heavy, cumbersome - suck it!) electro-gun at Parker when Wade finally came to life, running at the last Prof with katanas in hand and swung at the arm hefting the gun.

The arm sliced clean and he laughed at the clones suddenly being even more clone like (he just needed to get that last one’s arm too). The lightning gun clattered to the floor.

‘Destroy it!’ Parker yelled, punching the webbed faced clone back to the floor and shooting more webbing at the others, ‘Wade!’

And of course it made sense. Same build, same bubble butt, different voice (but Spidey had always used that dumb modulator), same butterfly inducing presence. Never one to deny Spidey anything (except that pity date - and ah, it seemed like he was kinda pissed about that), Wade punched his katana right through the machine, sending a little shock up his arm (kinky), the gun sputtering out into death.

 

Wade looked down at the webbed up clones, writhing around uselessly on the floor gagged and bound. He smiled up at Spidey-Parker from beneath his mask but did not get a smile in return.

‘I need to find Gwen.’

‘Right, right.’ Wade didn’t bother not to sound disappointed.

Parker had a ‘sense’ where she might be so they searched for and found a peppy looking blonde in an oversized lab coat sitting at a bench, waiting patiently.

She looked downright terrified at the sight of a blade wielding, suited up, superhero running into the room behind her guy.

‘What the shit, Peter?’ She jumped up off the stool to leap at him, giving Wade a wide berth. ‘Professor Warren said to wait here while he went to investigate. What happened?’

‘What is all this stuff, Gwen?’ Parker said, ignoring the question.

‘Peter? What's going on out there?’

‘Everything’s fine, Gwen, it was an accident in one of the labs.’ She looked mollified, but not by much. Wade didn’t blame her, Parker (or Peter?) was eyeing off all the glassware on the bench with intensity. ‘What were you guys doing in here?’

‘Just working on my genetics project,’ Gwen answered, slowly, like Peter was being crazy.

‘Whose are all these samples, Gwen?’

Wade looked more closely at the bench and could see little slides all over the place, some of them marked ‘Warren’, some of them marked ‘Stacy’. Still, the cops were probably almost here and he didn’t want to leave an undisguised Spidey to deal with the fallout.

‘Maybe we should get to safety,’ Wade said, trying to lead them both out by example, heading for the door.

‘Peter,’ Gwen huffed, ‘it’s just for the research project, of course we were just using our own samples!’ Parker didn’t say anything, but grabbed hold of the tiny blonde bombshell and hugged her to him.

‘Kiddo’s,’ Wade pleaded, and Peter finally looked at him with comprehension, cocking his head a little as if listening to some distant sound.

‘It’s all right, Gwen, the cops are on their way - we should get out of the building though’ Peter held her hand to tug her along and finally they followed Wade through the door. From there he let the two of them lead the way - not back to the hallway, but through the body of the building to a grassed area outside.

 

‘You go Gwen, I just gotta grab my stuff.’

‘I don’t see anyone out here, Peter.’

‘They’re out front, the hallways blocked off though. Better to go this way.’

‘Okay.’ She looked unsure, ‘don’t be long, okay?’

‘I won’t.’

She spared one last worried look at Wade in his Deadpool get-up and ran to catch up to the rest of the students outside.

As soon as she was out of sight, Peter turned to web out, swinging back to the lab like a maniac. Wade followed, hot on his converse clad heels, not surprised to find him standing over the samples on the bench of professor McClones-a-lot’s lab.

‘Cutie? Spidey?’ Wade asked, hesitant.

‘Wade.’

‘How bad is it?’

‘I don’t know how many more clones there are,’ he rubbed at his eyes, weary, ‘Or how many of Gwen's DNA samples he has stashed away somewhere.’

‘That’s fucking twisted.’ Wade shook his head, because, well, it fucking was.

 

He stood back and watched as Peter gathered up all the samples into the sink and poured acid from a giant brown glass jar all over them. And then he helped Peter clean out the fridges of all the rest of the samples, everyone’s (‘so much work’ he sighed, sad but determined) and threw them into the acid bath too. Destroying it all.

‘Is it too late to take you up on that Mexican?’ Wade asked, thinking it might lighten the mood.

Peter shook his head, but in a resigned kind of way.

‘Can’t believe you’re actually cute under that suit.’ Wade laughed, which, looking back, might not have been his best move. And it was still a total surprise when Spidey turned, punched him in the face and stormed off.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Wade work his way back into Peter's good graces...
> 
> Commence Operation: (pinch) Perfect, Precious Petey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait folks, I promise it was worth it :)
> 
> ♥

 

Peter was aware that Wade was a dick.

 

A giant, crazy, violent, muscular, tall, strong, dangerous, dick.

 

And usually Peter could just accept that and wrap it into a little ball of ‘lets save that for later’ in his brain and focus on the sweet offers of chimichangas when Spidey had had a rough night. Or burgers when he was looking a little thin (because, living off a student salary, even with Tony's many attempts to intervene, was a hungry, exhausting, endeavour). Or when Wade had noticed that Spidey wasn’t so quick on the comebacks and seemed like he needed a hug (and a less than surreptitious ass grab, because, well, Deadpool). Or the fact that Wade seemed to trust Peter implicitly, maybe exclusively, and would somehow always be there to have his back.

 

And maybe punching him in his dumb, fat face had been a little out of line. But it felt right at the time. Still stung by the rejection and angry that, as Peter, Wade seemed perfectly happy to flirt, major OTT style, like he had a new toy and Spidey was old news. And exhausted from the knowledge that there were potentially clones of his best friend in the world running around out there with fancy weapons and a supervillain agenda. It was all too much. And violence had presented as an acceptable option.

 

Deadpool took it in stride, of course, because to Deadpool a punch in the face was basically a hand shake. And though Peter was disappointed at his lack of control, and stooping to Wade’s level (and he was SO mad at Wade), he refused to apologise.

 

Peter stormed off and Wade followed. And followed. And followed, Peter couldn’t shake him. Even once he pulled his suit on. Which, any other time, might seem adorable and kooky, but right then was just frustrating.

 

                ‘Wade!’ he rounded on him as he shouted and froze at the unexpected proximity.

                ‘Peter.’

And didn’t that sound ridiculous. And make him shiver just a little. His name, real name, in that gravely voice, right from Wade’s mouth (or mask, whatever) to Peter’s ears (or mask, shit… just forget it).

                ‘I’m trying to storm off here!’ Peter’s hands flew to his hips without intention. ‘You’re ruining it!’

                ‘Spidey-babe, liste-‘

                ‘Nope!’

                ‘give m-‘

                ‘Nope!’ Peter put his hands right over his ears (mask!) like a two-year-old. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’ He watched Wade contemplate what to say next and held up a finger in warning. ‘Let’s just double back to all the places we’ve found the Warren clones so far and see if we can figure out where the hell they might be holed up.’

Wade nodded, no words necessary, and Peter spun around and swung away.

First stop was to Gwen’s. It was the first place they’d seen the creepy clones and, knowing they were all Professor Warren, it made perfect sense that they’d been lurking there. Turned out, to no one’s surprise, they weren’t anymore.

Second stop was to the scene of the burglary he and DP had interrupted the clones at a few weeks before, but, again, there was no sign.

Third stop was to a place that Wade told Peter he’d tracked them to three days ago, an abandoned apartment building in Harlem, and finally they caught something of a trail. They followed it for hours to another dead-end.

By midnight, Peter could barely keep the resignation from his voice, but didn’t have the heart to call it. Deadpool was, as ever, ready to save him again.

                ‘I’m calling it, Webs.’

And Peter was so glad he didn’t even argue.

He also didn’t bother to dissuade Wade from following him home. His identity had been revealed. Cat was out of the bag, and all that. What was the point?

                ‘So, this is your place huh?’ Wade asked as they trudged up the stairs to Peter’s second floor studio apartment. Anything decent under thirteen hundred a month in Forest Hills was hard to come by, but Tony had helped him find it (Peter suspected he had probably just bought the building) and it had a nice little kitchen and a bath that Peter could soak his muscles in every once in a while.

Peter nodded along, too tired to speak and too frustrated to think clearly. He unlocked the door and waved his hand with a vague ‘this is it’ gesture and collapsed, face up, onto the moth-eaten couch, faded grey and threadbare from use, but comfy, and clean, and the spot were Peter would often flop down and fall into a coma, before dragging himself back to labs the next day.

 

                ‘It’s nice.’

Peter looked up at the wistfulness in Deadpool’s tone, not sure why it hurt him to hear. ‘It’s a bit small… but it’s just me, you know.’

                ‘It feels like you,’ Wade said, turning his big white eyes on Peter and cocking his head slightly, ‘feels like a home.’

Peter chose to ignore the sentimentality in favour of a cold shoulder. Then ruined it by trying to be hospitable.

                ‘There’s not much to eat in the fridge, but you might find some Ramen in the cupboard’ he called over the back of the couch, not bothering to lift his head. Actually, when he thought about it, there probably wasn’t any Ramen either. It had been a while since he’d grabbed any groceries.

                ‘Baby-boy, please don’t tell me you really live like this,’ Wade said, horrified, as his head popped into Peter’s view.

                ‘Like what?’

                ‘There’s no food in the house. No bread, no fruit, no milk,’ Wade leant closer, elbows steadying him on the back of the couch, ‘are you even _eating_?’ his mask looked somehow simultaneously haughty and scandalised.

Peter flinched as Wade started to poke at his ribcage.

                ‘Wade, I’m eating!’ Peter cried, indignant at the prodding and embarrassed of what Wade would find there. ‘Just not… super regularly,’ he clarified reluctantly at Deadpool’s sceptical huff.

                ‘You’re nothing but skin and bones,’ wade tsked, shaking his head.

                ‘And muscle!’

                ‘Hmpf. Not for long at this rate.’ DP crossed his arms and looked over at the door. ‘I‘ll be back. Don’t go anywhere!’

               

As if he could. He didn’t even have the energy to go get himself a glass of water, though his mouth felt dry and his throat scratchy. Or to do more than squeal at the feeling of someone yanking his mask of his head (where were his spidey-senses when he needed them, huh? Friggin’ useless) and Wade shoving a huge R2D2 mug of cold water in his face with a sharp ‘Drink up!’ as he swanned out the front door.

               

He fell back to the couch and rested the mug on his chest, trying to decide if that buzzing in his belly was annoyance or affection and eventually landing on a bit of both.

 

 ***

 

So yeah.

Spidey Babe.

Turned out to be an _actual_ babe.

Like full on, heart-stopping, cock rocking, eleven out of ten would-go-there-every-time babe.

Which was really no surprise to Wade, being that he had taken one look at that ass and known, hundred percent, it belonged to the body of a god and must be protected at all costs.

And then Spidey had turned out to have the personality of someone you just wanted to wrap up in pink fluffy bunny rugs and keep soft and safe for-EVER. All cute and sweet and naive but sassy and sharp sometimes and never let Wade down, despite his murderous and less than friendly or (let’s face it) entirely sane ways.

 

And now Wade knew just about everything there was to know about Spidey. That is, that he could know without getting into his pants (so tasty). His name: Peter Parker, his brain: so big and beautifully smart, his heart: enormous enough that he would stop a bullet for his friends and invite Wade into his home, and trust Wade to have his back. No one ever trusted Wade to have their back. But Peter did. Pete. Petey. Baby-boy. He treated Wade like a person, like a friend. And fuck if that wasn’t the best feeling.

 

So. Again. That brought him back to the dilemma at hand. How should Wade proceed with the mind-blowing influx of information pouring into his fractured, fucked-up psyche. Peter had asked him out, not once but _twice_ , and more than likely in a non-fake, no pity involved capacity. And Deadpool had treated him like a bitch and nearly broke his poor little heart (shut up, it’s meant to be a bit dramatic, okay?) and even so, Petey had let him back into his life and still trusted him, and still treated him like a friend.

 

As far as Wade could see there was just one course of action: buy Petey _all_ the things, cook him one million pancakes, pinch that precious bubble butt as often as he could get his hands on it _and_ make sure he understood how perfect he was.

 

Commence operation (pinch) Perfect, Precious, Petey.

 

Of course, by the time Wade made it back to Peter’s apartment he was out cold. Drooling and everything. At least he’d drunk the water Wade had left him to hydrate with (hydration is important, kids) and would feel less like death in the morning. Wade put away all the groceries, pulled the comforter off Petey’s bed and draped over his cute little drool-y, comatose body and laid out on the floor next to him to listen to him sleep (not creepy, no).

 

And by some miracle of miracles, Wade fell asleep too.

 

He woke up a few hours later to a still sleeping Spidey and a hungry tummy. Checking the apartment for any suspicious activity (Jesus, when was the last time Wade had fallen asleep on watch?) and after a quick sweep of the whole fucking building, decided it was probably okay and he could get to cooking some awesome, awesome pancakes. By the time Petey had peeled himself up off the couch to the smell of pancakes cooking, there was a nice fresh batch waiting for him on the rickety little table with a bottle of Canada’s finest Maple syrup. And Wade had done something for Peter that he hadn’t done for anyone in a really long time. He stood in his kitchen in full civilian get up. No mask. No hiding.

 

The smile on Peter’s face, all soft and secret and sweet as fuck, was a reaction to Wade’s real self that Wade had never dared dream he would receive. Something in his chest just _ka-thunked_ like a real live beating heart had taken up residence there. It was terrifying.

                ‘Good morning, Peter,’ Wade said quietly, not sure what the etiquette around suddenly baring your hideous deformities to a dude you had totally fallen for really was.

                ‘Morning, Wade,’ Peter replied, all shy and fucking gorgeous. ‘Ah, I’m just… give me a minute in there…’ he mumbled, waving at the bathroom and grabbing some folded clothes from a laundry hamper on the way through. He returned a few minutes later looking like a fucking hipster poster boy in his black framed glasses, dark hair all crazy, ripped skinny jeans and a scoop necked navy-blue tee. And Wade was basically speechless. The best he could manage was,

                ‘Hey.’

But Peter just smiled his cute little smile and waved a weird little wave and said, ‘Hey,’ back, so it was working, whatever they were doing.

                ‘Sit, eat,’ Wade said, gesturing to the table.

                ‘Did you… are you, cooking?’

                ‘Yes, Spidey, I have many hidden depths.’

                ‘Oh, I didn’t mean-‘

                ‘It’s okay, I’m just teasing.’ Wade piled the pancakes on Peter’s plate and poured the syrup over them. ‘Now eat up, you need some meat on your bones.’

                Peter laughed, ‘You sound like your trying to fatten me up to eat me or something.’ And then flushed at the implications of that statement.

                ‘Oh, I absolutely plan on eating you, baby-boy,’ and Wade was sure every inch of exactly how much he wanted Peter Parker in his mouth was in his expression.

                Peter swallowed audibly and proceeded to shovel mouthfuls of pancake into his rosy red cheeks. Wade just smiled and made sure to tell little Wade that they would need to bide their time. It would be up to Petey to make all the decisions here. And not till he noticed Peter looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and appreciation did he realise he’d said it out loud.

                Wade decided to make himself scarce and do the dishes. He’d forgotten how freakishly quiet Spidey was until he crept up behind him at the sink. At least the startled, ‘gah!’ he let out, was deep and manly. Much less embarrassing.

                ‘So…’ Peter said, quietly, and obscenely close to Wade’s mouth.

                ‘So?’ and though Wade had nearly a foot on Peter, something about him was so intense, he felt crowded into the bench behind him.

                ‘I feel like we haven’t really formerly met each other yet,’ he grinned, and it was surprisingly predatory, ‘you know, despite recent events.’

                ‘I guess we haven’t,’ Wade replied, wondering how he had been put on the back foot all of a sudden. Peter held out his hand to Wade, who took it with some trepidation. It was one thing to show someone your scars. It was totally another to let them feel the damage, touch it, know for real how ruined you were. But Peter’s soft skin just slid over Wade’s, cradling it, like it was something worth holding.

                ‘Peter Parker,’ he said, practically whispering the words into Wade’s mouth, reaching up and tilting his head just so.

                ‘Wade Wilson,’ Wade whispered back, bending his head down to almost touch his nose to Peter’s.

                ‘It’s nice to finally meet you, Wade,’ and Wade had no time to reply before Peter had pressed his lips against Wade’s. Those perfect pink lips. And Wade let his hand go so that he could reach his arms around Pete and spin them both. He crowded Peter up against the counter and deepened the kiss, easing Peter’s lips apart with calm pressure and capturing that gorgeous pouty bottom lip between his own. To which Peter replied with the most spectacular, breathy, little moan.

                ‘Jesus,’ Wade cursed, worried he was going to eat Peter whole if he couldn’t get a hold of himself.

                ‘Wow,’ Peter breathed, smiling with a light in his eyes that was too bright to be real, ‘I always imagined kissing you would feel just like that.’ And Wade had no idea how to respond. But actually, he didn’t have to, because Peter immediately grabbed him by a fistful of his black, V-neck tee-shirt and pulled him back into another kiss, somehow managing to shuffle himself up onto the bench, wrapping his legs around wade’s waist and dragging him even closer, till their bodies were pressed together. Wade didn’t fight it, just melted into Peter, running is hands up under his shirt and across the smooth, pale expanse of Peter’s stomach, lingering over the definition of the muscles there, within them the kind of quiet strength that could tear down a city, but one only ever used to hold it together.

                ‘Fuck, you’re beautiful.’

                ‘I am?’ Peter asked (as if he didn’t know).

Wade answered by kissing him again, licking into Peter’s mouth and tasting the pancakes and the syrup, and something unmistakably Peter, just the sense of him. It was so good, Wade needed more, lifting up Peter’s shirt and dragging it over his head, touching as much of him as he could.

                ‘Is this okay?’ he asked, unsure of how far he should really take this, sure only, really, that Peter had to be in his early twenties, and compared to Wade, that was so, so young.

                ‘God yes,’ Peter said, with so much enthusiasm, Wade had to smile, ‘I’ve been wanting you like this for so long…’ and as if to prove it, Peter ran his hands up underneath Wade’s tee shirt.

                ‘Peter-‘

                ‘Please, Wade,’

                ‘It’s no picnic under there, Peter,’ Wade said, pulling back a bit from Pete and attempting to look stern, ‘you won’t like what you see.’

                ‘Wade,’ Peter said, attitude plus (and Wade had almost forgotten the sheer snark Spidey could force into that voice), ‘I like you, all of you. And this,’ he lifted his shirt slightly, touching the scarred skin beneath, ‘this is part of what makes you, you. I want you. All of you.’ He traced his hands up, Wade powerless to stop him, ‘please?’ And Wade would give him anything. Everything. (Operation Precious Peter, remember) Peter brushed a thumb over Wade’s scarred nipple, skimming back over it at the reaction he must have seen in response and gripping it between his fingers to pinch, softly (fuck, where did he learn to do that) so that Wade arched up into it, ripping his own shirt off and throwing it across the room, pushing in to kiss the smug smile of Peter’s face at his victory and leave him gasping instead as Wade licked and sucked his way down Peter’s throat, collar bones, chest, stomach, hips, to slowly unzip those sinful jeans and tug them down around his ankles, faced with Peter’s throbbing erection and mouthing at the most beautiful, velvety cock he had ever seen in his long life.

                ‘Fucking _Christ,_ Peter.’

                ‘I forgot to take underwear in with me,’ Peter explained between breaths, head thrown back and eyes closed at the overwhelming sensations Wade was creating with his fingers and his tongue.

                ‘Now, didn’t I tell you I was going to eat you up,’ Wade grinned up at Peter, who tried to laugh but only moaned all soft and precious, hitting Wade right in the dick with how delicious he sounded. And he gave no other warning before swallowing Peter whole, pushing his back against the bench to get the best angle so that Peter was forced back onto his elbows and thrusting up into Wade’s mouth. It was perfect. Wade hollowed his cheeks like a good boy, making his mouth all tight and wet for his Baby-boy and Peter fucked into it mindlessly, so strong, almost too strong for Wade, but always holding back just enough to not hurt (not _really_ , just a good amount) and soon he was calling out Wade’s name, arching his back so fucking gracefully and coming down wade’s throat in hot pulses. Even then, he tasted so damn _good_.

 

Peter lay back, panting as Wade kissed and licked and sucked back up his gorgeous, creamy body to those pouty pink lips and kissed and kissed Peter back down until he was laughing and pushing himself back up to sitting.

                ‘Like, so…’ Wade said and Peter laughed again.

                ‘Like, so what, Wade?’

                ‘I was just wandering if you were free?’ wade whispered into Peter’s mouth

                ‘Actually, I’m very expensive,’ Petey whispered back, biting at Wade’s bottom lip, little minx that he was.

                ‘Well, I guess it’s just lucky that I’m fucking loaded, eh?’ Wade teased, pulling Peter up off the counter and grabbing him by that magnificent ass.

                ‘Wade!’ Peter laughed, smacking Wade on the shoulder. ‘You’re supposed to ask me out to dinner.’

                ‘Ah, yes. No, I think we’ll eat in.’

                ‘Okay,’ Peter said smiling, and Wade threw him onto the bed, crawling up to join him.

                ‘Although I will definitely be eating you out.’

                ‘Oh my god, Wade,’ Peter cried, throwing his head back into the pillows, blushing right down to his pretty pink nipples.

                ‘Sorry, Petey, but I have _quite_ an appetite.’ Peter just shook his head, though it was totally ruined by the smile on his face.

                ‘Okay, but after this, we’ll go back out looking for the Clones, right?’

                ‘Definitely, at some stage,’ Wade replied.

                ‘Today, Wade.’

                ‘Right, absolutely,’ Wade said, grabbing Peter by the ankles and wrapping his thighs around his neck, ‘later.’

And Peter didn’t have a chance to reply before Wade licked down the delicate skin between his balls and his hole, to finally (FINALLY) taste that sweet, sweet, Spidey ass.

                ‘ _Fuck_ , Wade!’

                ‘Soon, baby, soon.’ Wade replied, before licking back into Peter.

                ‘Okay,’ peter said, gasping for breath, ‘maybe… oh, god, we can go… tomorrow.’

And Wade looked up to smile at him before diving right back down to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all ♥♥♥
> 
> Merry Christmas!!


End file.
